Mental Health Association
by Money Multiplier
Summary: What would happen if a hero and a monster formed a friendship? Genos is about to find out, and it is going to cost him more than he thinks.
1. The Meeting

**Disclaimer: I don't own One Punch Man.**

 **A/N:** This story picks up after the King arc, the day after Genos's fight with G4.

 **Edit:** I did some spelling corrections and other adjustments.

 **Chapter 1**

 **The Meeting**

She was dangling at the edge of oblivion; the only thing between her and the water below was the diminishing strength of her fingertips and the cracked frame of the window above. She could see the body of a co-worker dangling down a steel pole sticking out of whatever was left of her office, and she could smell the remains of other friends on her bloodied blouse. The sudden death by the meteor had almost been a small mercy when the other alternative was an excruciating one at the hands of a rampaging monster. She had known him; they had worked together, and then he was fired. He had come back for vengeance.

She wondered if dying by his hand was preferable to drown, or flying into pieces. She couldn't swim, and she was sure that if she were to crash into the water from this height, the twentieth floor of her workplace, then there wouldn't be much left of her to drown. It was strange, there was no coast in City Z, but there she was, threatened by a large body of water.

The water had appeared from nowhere. First, there had been a thunderous bang that still rang in her ears, and the building had collapsed sideways. Between the gaps, water had flowed in, cascading from somewhere outside the city. She guessed it to be the water of the great Lake Ashi. She could feel its coldness from above. If its bed had been disrupted by those flaming rocks, and it wouldn't surprise her to see this part of the city flooded.

But knowing all of these did not improve her predicament at all.

Her situation reminded her of the monkey bars she used to play when she was in primary school. Being a fat child, she always failed to advance after the first couple of flights. And now, her own body was working against her again. She might have lost a lot of weight, but she was still weak without a shred of muscle. She hadn't changed an iota even after over two decades. She still failed at monkey bars. Even though it had only been a few minutes at most, her arms were quivering spastically, and her hands drenched in cold sweat were slipping.

The foreboding thought of her slipping fingers haunted her. She dreaded the moment she would fall and the surface of the water would break her bones apart like they were rice paper. She feared the moment where she would no longer be.

She let out a cry of anger that reverberated in the dim chamber she was in. She dug her fingers into the pane and felt her painted nails bend outwards. She would not give up yet, not to this. She had endured for years to become what she was; she had risen above from everyone else, and she would do the same now; she would not give up-

A whiplash sound of breaking plaster pierced through her angry convictions, and she became weightless for a moment. She flew for a glorious moment before slamming into the water. She sank to her end: her mangled fingers oozing out a thick black blood, and her hair trailing quietly after her as she disappeared into the darkness.

00oo00

Genos's day so far had been quiet. He had spent the morning with Dr Kuseno working on his repairs and the modifications produced from G4's remains. Now though, he was back in City Z and feeling celebratory; he had purchased saltwater eel (which was getting rather pricey these due to over-fishing). And-

And- Was that the sound of screaming?

Genos dashed into the street to the left, his grocery bag swinging at his side. He could detect the sounds of distressed citizens up north, around the fences surrounding the abandoned city, not too far from Saitama-sensei's and Genos' apartment. It was over 400 metres away, and he guessed the screams would've travelled more if it not been for the tall apartment buildings.

He jumped up, perching on the roof of a convenience store. He could see people fleeing. He moved closer, returning to the streets, and followed the telltale trail the fleeing crowd had set for him.

"You," a woman gasped, choking on air, "Y-you're a hero right?"

Before Genos can answer he was flooded with scared exclamations.

"It was horrible!" a man cried, "Everything blew up!"

"She devoured my dog," another sobbed, clutching a broken purple leash, "He was just a puppy!"

"Where is the creature?" asked Genos.

"She was behind that building, then she ran back into the deserted city towards the old market," the first woman said.

"With my puppy!"

"It's tall and oozing of black matter, like a giant slug!" the man next to Genos piped in. And with that last tidbit of information, Genos was off.

00oo00

Genos was well into the abandoned city and had been scouting the perimeter for some time. He was getting irritated, and the eel in his bag was getting gelatinous in the heat. If he galloped along with it any longer, he might have to serve instant rice and egg again tonight.

Whatever that had haunted the streets before had vanished in thin air, leaving only cleaved pavements, and collapsed manholes; and foul-smelling surface runoff gushing out of the storm drains. Genos could still sense demonic life forms, their energy levels flickering in and out his sensors, but most were far away, and only one near him was weak like it was being suppressed on purpose. It was making it hard for him to pinpoint its location.

But no, he would not fail. It was still there, he didn't need the digital output to find it. He picked up his speed and rounded the corner. And he was surprised to see a thin woman in the middle of the street. She jumped back, yelping, just as startled at his sudden appearance as he was of hers.

And with that, the demonic presence evaporated.

The woman barely had any energy presence, it was unlikely she was the source of the demonic aura. Genos inspected her, noticing how timid and weak she looked hiding part of her face behind patches of entangled brown hair. She had wrung fingers drawn to her chest, gloved in what he might guess to be black shiny leather. Only a scared civilian. The monster must be hiding somewhere near, then. Her cry must've alerted it to his presence.

"You-" she started.

"Have you seen a tall dark monster?" he asked as he approached her. His vision roamed the environment for any clues.

"Yes, the monster was behind me, so I ran here," she paused, grappling with words, "I am scared, can I stay with you?"

Genos frowned at her, "No. You should head that way and you'll be safe."

She looked more miserable if that was possible, "But, isn't this place no-notorious for monsters? Please, I don't feel safe."

"No," replied Genos, "You must leave, the area is clear in that direction."

She cocked her head to a side, "How do you know?"

"I- That is irrelevant. Leave, it is not safe you to remain here."

"B-but, I must find my dog."

Genos was not sympathetic. "Your dog."

She did two quick successive blinks, "I mean- um, it is my friend's, but I cannot leave it here, it is just a puppy. I think the monster has it."

Speaking of the devil, the demonic presence had changed positions. Genos had to move on. "Do what you must."

"Thank you!" She did a quick bow.

"Don't thank me yet," he muttered under his breath. Feeling mildly sadistic, he wondered if he should run just to make her quit, but he dismissed that thought. He could afford to be more careful, now he knew the monster was near. There was no need to rush into danger. Not to mention it was rather cruel of him to do so. She had been rather polite until now.

"I think I know you. You are Demon Cyborg, right?"

"Yes."

"Your name is Genos."

He did not acknowledge that. Where was that monster? He was picking up something again, a sudden jump, a couple of streets down this time. Was it running away? How did it move that fast?

"It was you who destroyed that meteor, right?"

"... No." Perhaps he should've ditched the girl.

He heard her stop. "You didn't?

"Was it Metal Knight then?" There was an edge in her voice.

He too stopped, turning back towards her, "No."

"Then who?"

Genos hesitated. It was strange, here was a person who wanted to know the truth, he could give Saitama-sensei the credit he deserved, but something about her expression told him to be careful, "It was a collective effort."

"That's hardly an answer. Am I to take it as the reports were then: you, Metal Knight and a C-class hero who rode the shoulders of the giants."

She looked irritated when she spoke those words, and he didn't know what to make of her, but he was sure it added up to his desire to get rid of her as soon as possible.

"Stop dallying me if you wish to find your dog and be quiet." The words came out harsher than he had intended.

"Well- I," she started, flushing.

"You," he enunciated as clear as he can, "are slowing me down."

Her unassuming expression crumbled as her supposed shyness was overcome by fury. "You are not forthcoming, are you brat? Ordering people around so rudely."

A crack appeared in the wall of an apartment next to them.

Genos's anger flared, _brat?_ "And you are rather pretentious, aren't you? I don't have to tolerate your inflated ego, pipsqueak. Scram."

A water pipe burst, splattering both of their feet in liquid. Genos frowned, looking at the wall. He raised his palm up and-

"I have to wonder who is the egoist here, you nasty toaster-"

-a small flame jumped to life.

And the building shook and crumbled; a monster, huge enough to tower Tank Top Master, burst from the concrete slabs. It was a big, dark, and ugly brute with a bovine head that was crowned by four large demon horns. It looked strong with all of its body rippling with sweaty muscles. For a moment it looked as if it would attack them, but it seemed to reconsider his decision, looking at them as empty as his grass chewing cousins did to trains, and then like an overgrown school bully it ran back.

Genos did not hesitate to mutter "incinerate". This monster might not be the one he was looking for -it obviously was not a female-, but its death would do for now. A wave of wildfire erupted from his hands, engulfing the monster like coursing water.

"What are you doing!" she shouted over the roar of the fire, through her shielding arms, "He was running away!"

Genos let the torrent of fire go out and watched as the flames curl in and dwindle on their own.

"He was a monster," he glared at the charred piece of meat, stuck under a sizzling construction pole, "They deserve nothing but elimination."

Unbeknownst to him, while he was speaking his truth, the woman's face had contorted into an ugly sneer.


	2. Discount Looms

**Disclaimer: I don't own One Punch Man.**

 **Many thanks to everyone who has reviewed, followed or liked!**

 **Side note: Chae-yeong** **is read as "chay-yang". Also, Kumagaya Uchiwa Festival is in July but in this story, we'll imagine it is held earlier within the year.**

 **Happy readings!**

 **Edit: Did some cleaning. Oh boy, I need to spell check.**

 **Edit 2: Genos was a hard-ass, I softened him up a little.**

 **Chapter 2**

 **Discount Looms**

The sky above City Z was bright cerulean, and in Saitama Residence an air of stagnation gripped Genos. His companion and teacher Saitama, who had just returned from patrolling, bloodied and unaffected as usual, was lounging in the living area, whereas he was blow drying the dishes. Outside the weather still retained the rimy quality of the past winter, and just like the thin sheets of ice around the legs of the flyover junction, Genos's frustration has not thawed yet. The buzz of the television barely reached his ears.

The last week had been a series of kerfuffles.

It all started five days ago, with Genos damaging himself while in pursuit of a monster who had an unfortunate ability to create bugs that could chew down metal. During his race back to Dr Kuseno, he had lost the sense of time, and since he had to pick every single one of the bugs one by one, he had let Saitama-sensei miss a big sale.

Only two days after this incident, he had failed to navigate through Shibuya to get to a manga convention sensei was relatively 'excited' upon. Apparently, even though Genos thought he had memorized the map of the neighborhood, somehow at the same time, he had underestimated the puzzling maze of streets in the neighborhood offered. After a series of dead ends and flirting flower ladies, they had to ask for directions; an action that highlighted Genos's shortcomings, which irritated him greatly.

Then, Genos had failed to deliver for the third time, only hours after his new modifications, and a day after his victory over G4.

He had a lapse of consciousness and for a brief moment forgot where he was. Consequently, he had almost blown up Saitama-sensei's apartment in order to fend off that spandex wearing stalker, called, called- Genos felt his right eye twitch, it was happening again. He couldn't recall that idiot's name. Whatshisface.

Sonic-o-boom? Speed-o-doom or Speed of sonic? He was missing something, but he couldn't put his fingers on the thing he was forgetting. Genos felt a headache coming, the short staring match with the running faucet not providing satisfactory results.

It wasn't long before Genos, who generally disliked trivia, gave up on the subject completely. But it was true that his memory was failing him more and more often these days, a phenomenon that boggled Genos's mind. Being a cyborg, he was sure he had some cognitive enchanters up above somewhere in his brain to help him compute input from his eyes, and more importantly, his ears. He couldn't help but wonder if the damage his brain endured during the transplantation process was finally catching up with him. If he really was malfunctioning it wasn't much of a logical jump to think one day he might go crazy like the-

The plate on his hand cracked as his control over the fire cannon wavered.

Surely not. Genos placed the plate down.

"Teacher, have you observed any strangeness in my behaviour recently?" asked Genos, looking over to his sensei's prone form across the TV.

"Unh?" said Saitama, who had been vacantly watching a new anime made by Zanrio, "What do you mean?"

"Have I been incongruous in my speech or motor abilities? Have I given any indication of-of," Genos whispered the last word, drawing closer to his teacher, "-stupidity?"

One of the green characters gave out a scream, "Wazawa-i Niku!", and Saitama gave him a blank look as he scratched his hip.

"I guess no? Why do you ask that?"

Genos hovered below the door frame. His first thought was to be truthful, that there was a possibility that he might go crazy over time, but something, probably a mix of his self-preservation and rationality stopped him. He didn't want Saitama-sensei to think he was malfunctioning before any tangible proof presented itself.

"It's nothing. Just wanted to check," lied Genos, with a bad taste in his mouth.

Saitama glanced back at him, "If this is about the sale, I told you it's okay dude."

The rush of gratefulness Genos felt was mingled with guilt, and when he bowed, it was slightly lower than normal, "Thank you sensei."

"Let's go somewhere for dinner. Those professional eaters made me crave some ramen."

Genos nodded, "Just let me put the clothes to wash first."

"Sure, but uh- I got some blood on my suit again."

"I'll wash it separately then."

Inside the bathroom, Genos crouched across the washing machine, stuffing the red-drenched costume into it. As he punched the buttons his other hand groped around the cabinet under the sink for the washing agent, and he quickly discovered they were out of all-purpose detergent.

Huh. It hadn't even been three weeks since he bought this batch.

Straightening, Genos turned on the tap. He began scrubbing the blood off his fingers. Light pink rivulets spiralled down.

He was doing laundry more often in these past few weeks. For some reason, there was an increase in the number of mysterious beings in the area. Or he and Saitama were encountering them more often.

Regardless of the cause of the influx, he had to go shopping now. The dinner would have to wait, with his teacher's consent, of course.

oo00oo

Entrance door closed behind him with a clang.

Genos was climbing down the rickety stairs that connected to the pavement when he first sensed something was off. He could tell he wasn't alone, somebody or something (the energy levels indicated a low level monster) was watching him somewhere beyond the parking lot, over the pile of monsters Saitama-sensei had left for him to burn. He had sensory output to back that statement.

Normally, Genos didn't mind being watched; he had encountered many fan-photos of himself on the internet. They were, at most, a minor annoyance, but, being stalked by a monster was a completely different thing. Fans didn't lust for his blood. Usually.

Wind blew. Paper rustled, and flyers caressed his feet.

Genos looked around for their source, seeing none he leant down. There he spotted a box under the stairs.

He took one from inside, then another one and one more. All of them were bargains from supermarket and convenience stores all over the city.

He stuffed the retail flyers back into the box. They were slightly creepy, all meticulously marked with a large X, and stained with what Genos analyzed as slobber.

Genos had been worried something this might happen, especially after Saitama's reaction to the missed sale this week. He was in tears. These discounts were slowly consuming him. Genos had to talk to his teacher about this. Saitama shouldn't feel the need to hide these things from his disciple.

Genos dumped the flyers back in with a sigh.

oo00oo

The road to the market was barren of life, even the sturdy grass that found its way from the concrete was waning. Had Genos been a sentimental person or had he noticed it at all, he might've dubbed it as gloomy, or if he had been superstitious, he might have taken it as an omen to the dark and dangerous swivel his life might take. But, his mind was occupied, and his eyes were used to the surroundings, he saw nor heard nothing amiss. His walk was short and within ten minutes he had reached his destination: the market VIM, the leading market monarch of shoddiness and penny-pinching.

Interior design was fairly spartan so that there were little to distract the customers from the goodies. The entrance was left open to updates and announcements on new commodities. Most of the time this was where Genos and Saitama dallied. Today there was a tiny stand that showed off the new items: transparent tapes dotted with the markets logo and a large plastic container of alarm clocks. A tall man in a trench coat seemed particularly interested in them, bumping into Genos in his haste to reach it.

For a split second their eyes met. Genos saw his huge mustache and panicked expression. But he let the man pass through without a complaint, linking the guy's panic to the one time offer. Even though he couldn't imagine being this excited about duck tape, no matter how cheap it was; Genos had learned to be respectful of other frugal peculiarities after spending so much time with Saitama -sensei.

Just when he was about to disappear behind the shelf that held his objective, he heard his name called. "Genos-san? Is that you?"

Curse his luck. It was the presumptuous civilian from before, just a few meters away. She had a bag of dog food at hand in a tight grip. Had her hands not gloved, Genos was sure he would see white knuckles protruding out.

He regarded her coldly with one visible eye, approaching her when she beckoned him closer.

"There is something important I would like to talk to you if you are available."

Saitama-sensei's wisdom surfaced in his mind.

"As long as it is within twenty words I am fine," he interposed.

This took her off guard. She blinked, and something similar to venom flashed across her face, souring her voice, "Don't worry I won't take too much of your time. But first, there is something else I need to get out of my chest."

"Go on."

"I wanted to apologize for my rudeness the other day. I was out of line."

Genos stared at her blankly.

Now she was raising her brows. Genos felt pressured to say something. "That is fine?"

She seemed to implore something more, nodding encouragingly. So he continued.

"Did you find your dog? After I left you?" asked Genos, remembering his stony departure.

"I did. There wasn't a problem."

"I am glad," he murmured, shifting his basket. She still had the dog food in her hand. "Are you going to buy that?"

"Oh, I don't need it now, I was just looking." She placed the bag to its place.

Genos looked down at her messy hair, to the diseased green sweater, then to her too long shabby skirt. She was just as run-down as she had been before, all second hand me downs and dirt. Poor, destitute and pitiful. "I can buy it for you."

Her eyes almost popped out of their sockets, "What! No! I am fine."

"It will be of no consequence to me. I can pay for it. Pets are expensive things, aren't they?"

Her whole face twitched, she gritted out, "I have money."

"Well- If you say so," his voice trailed away, his gaze unwittingly lingered down to her clothes again, "I shouldn't have intruded."

"It's just," started she, looking petulant, "Puppies smell. A lot."

You smell, he thought.

Genos wasn't trying to be mean. It was true that she was emitting a strange odor he couldn't classify; an unimpressive mix of moldy old fabric and dead fish raked against his nose. If she was bothering him, a cyborg with severely limited senses, Genos didn't want to know how regular humans felt. He guessed that was the reason why the closest human soul was three aisles away.

"They do," he agreed.

"I was trying to find something that might help with the odor."

Genos drummed his fingers against his hip. "I think your best bet is a pet store."

She gave him a bland smile, "Really? How did I not think of that."

Genos's eyes narrowed.

"How would I know? You are the one wasting your time here."

"You really are a rude brat," she said with a surprisingly good humored smile.

"I can say the same thing for you."

Her smiled widened into a grin. "Kindred spirits, eh?"

The implied kinship annoyed Genos for some reason. Perhaps he did not like to be found similar to someone so pitiful. "You said there was something you wanted to discuss with me, but I still have a few things to buy. If it isn't much of an inconvenience, meet me outside after I'm finished."

She flushed, her chin jutting out. With an incoherent mumble, she left him be.

As he was going on with his business, he caught her trodding aimlessly in the cereal section, picking up items at random before putting them back down with a downturned expression.

A small derisive smirk played on the corner of his mouth for the rest of his shopping.

oo00oo

When they met outside, her shyness had resuscitated back from its grave. Between her clutched her were her only purchase, a gummy bear bag. She looked cornered her thin shoulders were taut like snares and her anxious expression. If her pose wasn't so- so submissive, Genos might have mistaken her tense muscles as of one who is about to attack.

The last of sunshine burned the rooftops, Genos saw his metal body's reflection off of on a telephone box, burning like a muted flare of red and orange. He rubbed his chest with his free hand, suddenly disturbed by his body. He suddenly felt even more bizarre than the woman next to him, who was insisting on acting like a little rodent, fiddling with her confectionery. The sound was annoying him.

She was the first to break the silence, and much to his chagrin she seemed to be willing to extend the small talk further. "You are a cyborg aren't you Genos-san, and not an android?"

"You know my hero name. If I wasn't a cyborg why would they call me one?"

She remained silent, too busy cramming numerous gummy bears into her mouth, of which she offered him some after. He refused. She chewed out another question through her full mouth, "What can you do then? Do you have super senses or something?"

"Can you try to be a bit more specific?"

"Like, can you sense life from afar?"

Genos found it odd that this was the first thing her mind thought of. Most asked him if he could fly, of all things, or if he could fire laser beams with his eyes.

"Yes, I can determine energy levels within a certain radius," he replied.

"Really? How so?"

"The stronger and the more active a being is the more energy it radiates."

She frowned. "That doesn't seem right, why would strength have to do with anything?" she said, "Are you sure it works like that?"

"Of course I am."

"I think you should give more details about what you mean."

Genos gave her a withering side glance, "I am not here to lecture you."

She glared back. "I don't need it, thank you. I understand the physics well enough on my own. You are looking at a seasoned engineer."

That piqued his interest. Perhaps she could be of use.

"Is that so? What is your specialty?"

She looked as if she were sucking on lemons. "S-small kitchen appliances. My team made smart designs that focused on energy conservation."

Genos pursed his lips, looking away. Nevermind.

She shoved the bag of bears to his face again. This time he took one. They walked in silence until the next junction.

"So, how about me?" she asked.

"Excuse me?"

"You said you can judge energy levels, how about mine?"

Genos already knew what her 'level' was, another quick scan confirmed his conclusion from before. She completely passed under his radar. If he hadn't seen her move, he might have thought her dead or simply not there. Nonexistent, basically.

But, her face was bright with curiosity as it was eager.

Genos focused on the bus stop sign ahead. "...It is average."

"Oh," she said, sounding deflated again, "I'm surprised you can even sense me."

And the rest of the journey, up until Genos saw the fence that drew the borders for human residence, she continued to ask a salvo of strange questions. Was he planning on advancing above his current rank, did he miss his parents, were the S-rank truly fearsome, or was there a plan against a dragon level catastrophe like last time.

He found her curiosity curious. Was she fishing for crucial information? If so for whom? Or was she really an innocent woman interested in becoming a hero?

Genos answered all of her questions - save for the one about his parents, which he didn't bother to grace with a reply- with a dutiful 'no' regardless of the truth. Then to his displeasure, instead of getting to the point, she started to talk about herself. She chattered that her name was Kim Chae-yeong, besides confirming his suspicions about her heritage, this tidbit of information bestowed him with nothing worthwhile. He observed that she declared it in a somewhat offended manner, which wasn't all too surprising considering he failed to ask it himself repeatedly, even though they had been talking to each other for some time.

Then, she fell into an endless spiral about the gummy bears she bought and her opinions on the Lake Ashi, expressing how she hated that lake several times. She didn't stop there, to his growing horror, she continued that she found this cloud to be similar to this and that thing and that she loved the colour orange, and more, all sort of meaningless prattle she poured into his ears.

Genos was becoming overwhelmed. Why on earth was she babbling all these things to him as if they were old friends?

When he saw her inhale copious amounts of air to continue, he took his chance. "What is this very important thing you couldn't wait to discuss?"

Chae-yeong, whose mouth was still open, closed it shut as she rubbed the back of her neck, averting her gaze. She looked ashamed. Taking a deep breath she began talking, "I've always wanted to be a hero when I was younger, you know like Anpanman and She-Ra, somebody that protects others. But it wasn't until recently I started thinking this as an actual profession."

Genos resisted the urge to snap at her to get to the point. "Where does this concern me?"

She wrung her hands. Only then he realized she had been showing signs of nervousness the whole time.

"I don't want to an inconvenience. And I am sorry for taking so much of your time, but- I want you to guide me. At least for a little while, maybe?"

A flock flew by.

 _"Guide you?"_ he repeated, looking incredulous, "You are not making sense."

She twiddled her fingers. Her fingers were disfigured, the gloved joints uneven and crooked like they were broken too many times, "I was thinking in the lines of you set an example for me. You are strong," her face twisted at the word, almost admitting this gave her physical pain, "And you obviously know how to fight. I'm not asking you to put in any effort for my sake. I am not asking you to be my teacher. I just want to observe your fights, so I can build a library for future reference. I won't be in your way."

Either she was very stupid, or she was lying. She wanted him to guide her through what exactly? Did she want him to put a good word for her during her initiation -which he wouldn't do anyway- or did she actually wanted him to teach her how to be a proper hero? Again, if that is the case, it didn't make sense for her to come to him. There were many other exemplary heroes, many of whom possessed much more free time and willingness to help her than he did. Not to mention, he was a cyborg, whatever wisdom he gleaned from his fights would not be applicable for her. He did not trust her. Even though he could detect no bodily symptoms of a liar, he could very well smell the disjointed trail of a lie.

"Is that why you followed me?" asked Genos.

"Kinda. I was also trying to track the monster too," said Chae-yeong, "But I got lost, and then you found me."

"I thought you were looking for your dog."

She made a dismissive hand movement, "There was that too."

Genos crossed his arms, letting the groceries drag against his side. "Do you have any combat training?"

She shuffled her feet. "No."

"Any special abilities?"

"One, sort of."

Genos's pace increased, she had to jog to keep up with him. "'Sort of'? You either have something or you don't," said he, "Do you?"

Chae-yeong ignored his question and countered it with her own. She seemed to be doing that a lot. "Are you going to help me?"

His face was stiff, his voice cold. "That remains to be seen."

A thin stream of air blew from her lips. "Do you always fob people off like this?"

"No, I simply have a low tolerance for troublesome people."

She stopped in the backstreet behind his apartment, her back against the parking lot. She threw her hands up into the air. "Fine! Forget what I said! I don't need help from- from a-"

Chae-yeong trailed away, not finishing her sentence. Her gaze was on the artificially lit parking lot, on the pile of gleaming flesh and organs he had neglected to take care of. She was frozen, bent like a pale statue. Her pupils were dilated, and the dark of her eyes contained primal fear.

"What is that?" she asked, after a few moments of silence. She did not take her eyes off the pile.

"Monsters. Dead ones."

His bored voice seemed to shake her off, and she ducked down, covering her nose. The smell was overpowering her.

"Why the hell would you pile them up here?" she half-shouted.

Genos tilted his head to a side. "So we can burn them together. It seems perfectly reasonable to me."

"It is disrespectful to the bodies, even if they were beasts, some of them were human once!"

"Exactly. They are not human now."

"No one deserves that," Chae-yeong spat, "Not even livestock is treated like that."

Genos mouth twisted in distaste as he felt an old bitterness creep around him like a dark shroud. The shadow of a broken home lingered in his gaze, like a twisted mirage.

But the painful image vanished when his eyes landed on the pile of flesh. Instead, a feeling of satisfaction filled his gut.

"You obviously never saw a ravaged town under the hand of these monsters you are defending. Nor did you never saw the families ripped apart, the crying orphans, or those who were crippled forever because of them," said Genos, pointing, "Let me make this clear. Should you wish to become a heroine, one that truly protects others, this is what is expected of you. Life is not always fun and games, we have to get our hands dirty to make a difference."

Genos's words were cruel, and his eyes were rowing over her shrewdly for any inkling of her intentions. There was nothing he didn't expect: the shock, if not slightly underwhelming was there, so were flashes of disgust, and a puny amount of pity that brought everything together. But, there was something else too, an unexpected emotion expressed in her body that he couldn't quite place. So to be safe, he let one of the tracking devices Dr Kuseno had installed slip into his palm. Under the guise of empathy he placed the same hand on her shoulder -comforting in its implementation, but a blatant sham in its intentions- installing the tiny device into her drab clothing. Chae-yeong noticed nothing, she didn't even flinch.

When he spoke, the sound he made was soft.

"Should you wish to continue your pursuit, come find me this Saturday. I live in that building. If I am home I'll give you an orientation."

Three days from today, on the day of Kumagaya Uchiwa Festival. It was more than enough time for him to investigate her and to see whether she was somebody he could trust. If she was simply a prying girl with ambitions and nothing more, the only harm would be his wasted time. But if she proved the contrary, and if she was a spy like he suspected, he would trap her in her own web.

With a dispirited farewell and a piece of advice to go home quickly, he left Chae-yeong to her devices. He walked across. Next time he raised his head, to go up the stairs, she had moved somewhere else and was nowhere to be seen. Genos, on the other hand, was rooted in his spot.

Somebody had desecrated the entrance with the retail posters he found earlier: they were taped to the floor and the walls haphazardly along with coupons and brochures, over each other and sometimes upside down. A giant kanji was scribbled up into the railing of the second-floor staircase, twinkling in a sinister crimson. Under the shadow of the corridor, the trail of red and fifty percents followed up to his doorstep, ending abruptly there. Genos stepped under the kanji, taking the sunset behind him.

There was a dead body hanging from the ceiling, dressed in a cashier uniform. From his gaping mouth, a single coupon fell into the ground.

Genos felt a cold hand grip his heart.


	3. I swear I am a child!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

A little short chappie for fun. Been some time since I wrote anything down for this fic, and I am once again aglow and alight with new ideas and plot bunnies!

 **Chapter 3**

 **I swear I am a child!**

 **Three Days Before the Festival:**

Across the police station's interrogation table Genos watched an ugly HA official argue with the chief inspector, their rigid forms shrouded behind the dark-tinged glass. As the rooms of the police station were not designed with a cyborg in mind, they weren't aware that Genos could easily hear them.

Too bad. Perhaps the chief inspector should have thought twice before he called Genos an 'unreliable narrator'.

Genos focused on the polished surface of the table.

"This case is Hero Association's responsibility from now on," the HA official was saying, and quite cockily too if Genos might add.

The inspector agreed with Genos apparently. "You are responsible for diddly-nothing, son. Monsters are impulsive creatures, they don't scheme or plan ahead. This is a case of homicide, which, last time I checked, falls under the responsibility of the police."

"What makes you think this was planned?" The HA official sounded bored.

"The victim had been reported missing for some time. Obviously, the preparator planned on planting the body there."

"That means nothing, even a half-witted monster can drag an abandoned dead body around. I would like to point out the body wasn't well preserved."

"Look, son," the inspector said, "Kasayaka might be abandoned but it is still under the jurisdiction of the government. I will not bow down to the demands of a private entity simply because one of your tools is involved. If he has a part in this mess, he will pay for it."

Genos's targeting system locked on the chief inspector.

"You actually suspect an S-Class hero of petty murder?" HA official's voice rose slightly.

"I am accusing anyone, but I am not ruling out anything. He-" the chief sighed, "He talked. A lot."

The other man barked out a laugh. "Talked! Isn't that what you want?"

"He just kept talking about his shopping trip and his master? My officers didn't understand him at all. And I doubt he understands what we want from him," then, the chief continued on by whispering, "I am aware this is not very professional to say this but- regardless of his part in his case, I don't think he is mentally sound. You should have him checked out to see if he is clean."

"Ah, well, the S-class is a strange bunch, I'll give you that."

"More reason for police to take care of this, don't you think?"

"Hardly, you will find our men perfectly capable regardless of their personality quirks."

"The only thing I will find is your ass right out of my station."

"I will do no such thing, you will hand over the case, inspector!"

"Not a chance, son. You might try but," the Chief gave out an amused huff, "I can do this whole day."

Genos sighed, his core whirring down dejectedly.

oo00oo

The Chief inspector was true to his word. By the time the police let Genos out of the interrogation room, night had shrouded over the top of the buildings. The area around the police station was silent. Most had gone to sleep, and only the pride of the desperate kept the streets alive. If Genos used his imagination he could hear them cry silently in the nooks and crannies: lonely businessmen swaying in karaoke bars even after all of their coworkers had left, heartbroken lovers by the windowsills and the nastier sort with their knives flashing in the moonlight.

Genos pushed the glass door open, stepping outside, the crisp humid air invigorating his sensors. He saw his teacher sprawled out and asleep at a bank adjoint to the entrance, his neck craning in an awkward fashion.

So, Saitama had waited for him.

Instead of waking Saitama up and go home as expected, with a large exhale Genos sat next to him with a strange feeling in his heart, his back curving down with the weight of the day.

It wasn't the murder itself that caused him unease. While it was tragic for the victim and his family, the premature death of innocents had become a common thing in the world they lived in. Death and murder were cheapened in face of re-occurrence. But, to be targeted and marked by an unseen enemy worried Genos. It reminded him slightly of the gang activity in City G, where arson and anonymous harassment against the City A refugees were being reported at an increasing rate. The last time there was such a negative reaction towards refugees was around twelve years ago, when the first recorded dragon level disaster hit the neighbouring continent triggering an immigration movement like no other. Masses over masses lost their homes, and they migrated, pouring down the ports of Saitama continent, bringing little more than the clothes on their backs and their cheap labour. Locals lost their jobs, crime rose and the public lashed back. Genos's family had felt the sting of that whip first hand.

There wasn't enough room for everybody then. But it might be soon enough. If the current trajectory was not put to an end, Genos judged, the monsters would rid the continent from human presence soon enough. There would be more than enough space for all. In fact, this would have been the reality years ago if it wasn't for his Sensei's presence.

A pair of cars noisily sped past them, wetting the hem of his trousers, and jolting Saitama up. Genos's eyes tracked their license plates, memorizing them to report them later.

"Oh, you're out." Saitama said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, "What took you so long?"

Genos replied monotonously. "Hero Association wanted to take over this investigation but the chief investigator wasn't cooperating. He wanted to continue to keep me under custody. I believe he wanted the media coverage to paint the HA in an undesirable light."

"Why would the police want heroes to look bad?"

"I read that even though we are a private entity, we are getting more government support than the police nowadays. Perhaps this is the cause of the resentment."

Saitama remembered his own tryst in the police station, "Maybe they felt slighted by the public."

"Yes, I imagine that is also the case, sensei. But I suppose there are more important things at stake than damaged egos of a few policemen," said Genos, "Did the HA operative contact you too?"

"Nope."

Genos scowled involuntarily for he had already guessed as much. "They want to place A-class heroes around our neighbourhood where the police are also planning to put patrol in. I informed them both that none of it was necessary but apparently this was the only way the police would relent. So I agreed to it."

Saitama looked annoyed, "It is my house."

"Yes, it is. They should've asked you."

Saitama's shoulders slumped, defeated; then he yawned, stretching in a way that made Genos feel weary too. "Oh well, what is done is done I suppose, c'mon Genos let's go home."

"Yes, sensei. I do want to start investigating as soon as possible."

"That is nice but ah-" said Saitama as a nonchalant and vacant grin stretched on his face, "Perhaps we should ask our small friend if they know anything first."

What friend?

Genos felt an inverse rush fill his ears as his sensors activated, rushing to pinpoint the target. Steady energy levels of the sleeping individuals, the warmth of the policemen behind him, a passed out drunk some feet away, and- and a child behind the garbage container to his left? No, that was no child.

Genos's head swivelled around to see Saitama already jogging there at full speed with the same grin on his face. He looked terrifyingly giddy with his cape fluttering behind him.

Even though Genos did reach the target in the next heartbeat, Saitama still found a way to outmatch him. He was holding the child which turned up to be a small ugmon, up by the wrist. Genos, with little left to do, let his battle-ready hands drop down. His heat cannon deactivated in a rejected hiss.

Saitama gave the thing a good shake, "What are you doing out so late? Small children shouldn't wander around at night without adult supervision."

The thing wailed, its large veiled eyes bugging out. It was trying to bite Saitama's hand. He countered it by smacking the top of his head, repeatedly.

Genos stared at Saitama, trying to hide his annoyance at the fleshy sound.

"Sensei, that is an ugmon."

*smack*

"Really? He looks like a really ugly brat to me."

"No, I am positive he is a monster."

Several more smacking sounds ensued in the brief silence that followed.

Saitama frowned vacantly, "Don't be so mean Genos. Just because he is ugly."

Genos glared down, conflicted.

"Am not!" the thing spat, "Baldy!"

Saitama dropped it down, truly irritated now. "Don't shout. Do you want to be spanked?"

The monster flinched and shook its head vehemently, an apple red flush spreading along his sparse hairline.

"Now tell me why were you following us?"

"I wassn, I wassn," it garbled.

Saitama slapped it again.

"He made me!"

"Who?" Genos interjected.

The ugmon gave him a glance of pure hatred, but he remained silent.

Saitama raised his hand.

"Discountking!"

Saitama cocked his head, "What?"

"I think it said Discount King."

Saitama turned to Genos, "Who would have a name like that?"

Genos shrugged. "A tiger level monster maybe?"

Ugmon had the nerve to scoff, "Boss is much more."

Genos blinked, his eyebrows raising with thought, "Say ugmon, did this Discount King leave the body to our doorstep?"

Ugmon remained silent momentarily, chewing on his lips, "No."

Genos wasn't convinced, "Can you say with certainty that this character doesn't have anything to do with the body? Don't try to lie, I'll know if you do."

The monster's heart rate spiked, "...Yes?"

Filthy little liar.

In a sudden movement Genos grabbed the ugmon by the collar, presenting the flames of his heat cannon to its unguarded face, his eyes dark. "Tell me the truth or I will incinerate you."

It started wailing in fear once more. The sound it made was horrible, and Genos considered burning it to bits immediately, forgoing the information he might receive.

"Genos give it a rest."

In a blink, Genos released the monster. "Yes, sensei."

Saitama squatted down with a serious expression, "If you be a good boy and tell us the truth, I'll give you special bun."

Genos's eyes widened, did he mean the one-time seasonal curry nikuman he had been keeping in the fridge? His respect for his sensei grew for giving up such a rare treat in pursuit of justice. Surely, the ugmon won't be-

"I don't like buns," it said petulantly.

Genos felt an explosive emotion fill up his throat. "You better take that offer."

The ugmon didn't even look at him. "I don't wanna."

"Then, I'll show you what it means to take sensei's generosity for nought."

"I told you to give it rest Genos."

Genos didn't back down this time, "Ugmon, this is the last warning I am giving to you."

Saitama was looking at him squarely with a displeased expression now. Genos, knowing he had made a mistake, turned away feeling insignificant.

Saitama was talking again. "Are you really a child?"

"Yes, yes! Swear I am a child!"

Genos heard the crunch of Saitama's fists. "What kind of child rejects a steamed bun?"

There was a loaded silence.

"Boss wanted to send a message. Discount Avenger was the one who did the ...thing."

"What message," asked Genos.

The ugmon buried its face to its stubby arms, "I don't know."

"I guess we'll learn it soon enough won't we Genos, let's leave this brat to the police station."

"Yes, sensei!"

"Oh- no no, no need!"


	4. Cop Business

**A/N:** There was a very annoying typo that was persisting in the story (Genos' instead of Genos's), I fixed them all now. Anyway, hope you like this chapter, because I had a lot of fun writing it!

 **Note:** There is a bit of brief naughty language, but nothing too crude.

 **Chapter 4**

 **Cop Business**

 **Two Days Before the Festival:**

The sun rolled over the buildings, and it caressed the space between the empty breakfast bowls of the members of the Saitama household. It warmed Genos's fingers that had gone brittle with morning cold, as they flitted across the keyboard of his laptop, intent with a specific purpose as as he scrolled down the archives of several academic journals and newspapers.

Genos was hoping to discover some sort of clue on where to start on the murder mystery. With the leftover tapes and dried blood remaining on the hallway, along with a duo of cops cowering in their car just outside the street, it became difficult to ignore the circumstances. He had to locate the culprit before it was too late again.

But, unlike Saitama-sensei who preferred immediate on-field investigation, Genos liked to have a lead before he dipped his feet further in. But-

" _The neo-liberal capitalist system and the craze of constant consumption to fuel the capitalist economic machine-"_ Genos blinked rapidly, not really following the journal. He wasn't sure why he was reading this. Critical theory was stuffy. Unfortunately it-

" _is-"_

" _not-"_

" _SusTAinaBl-"_

Irritated, Genos exhaled through his nostrils. He squeezed his eyes shut. All was well and all but-

But, the thing was, Genos had a terrible headache. It was one of the few physical sensations that had translated over to his cyborg body.

In his agitated state last night he had forgone to turn off the incoming locational data his sensors received from the tracker device on that girl. Even though he had silenced it as the first thing in the morning, the overload of hours worth of dull information had hammered his brain all night. Worse, she had not moved an inch from whatever hovel she was in a few kilometers away.

That irritating pounding had accompanied him as he moved the futons out of the way, when he prepared breakfast and now it was still with him as he skimmed through the news articles and academic journals, making him miss words or skip lines as he was reading.

Downing his lukewarm tea, Genos started browsing forums. He searched all major forums. He even stooped as low as 6san, but no avail.

That is until he came across an old post in Geddit. It was a throwaway account that had a few posts talking about a rather peculiar stalker.

"Sensei," called Genos, "I have found something."

Saitama's clear bald head popped out of the bathroom, he had a toothbrush in his mouth, "Wassit?"

"There is this post, from about six years ago. The original poster is a freelance photographer and a sort of a sale and coupon enthusiast, such as yourself sensei, and it seems like he acquired a stalker due to this. It starts small, with marked coupons and such, just like in our case, but it seems to escalate fairly quickly over the successive posts. What is worse is that apparently the police did not take him very seriously, as he lived in a fairly wooded area with a lush wildlife and a well known group of teenage pranksters.

Saitama zipped his suit shut, balancing his cape in his arm along with a couple of bananas, "Yeah? Did anybody comment anything useful?"

"Unfortunately, no. Nobody has shown much interest in the posts due to their bizarre content. My guess is that most people thought the OP was a troll. This is the last post Sensei, there are no other updates, and it cuts off rather abruptly if I may add," With that, Genos turned the laptop towards Saitama, "I can only imagine how it ended for him. But there is a chance that this might be the Discount King we are looking for."

Saitama read aloud, " _It is not funny anymore. I keep on finding headless things outside my house, stuffed to the brim with those fucking flyers. But before I can report it they fucking disappeared from the basement, my own fucking basement that I use as a studio, with the camera I used to take pictures of them (the one I spent a fortune on) smashed into pieces. In my own home. That maniac broke into my house. I added extra locks to all my doors and windows but I haven't been able to go down to my studio since, I am too afraid."_

"Well, it sounds like our guy, Genos."

Then, Saitama's eyes lingered at the last sentence of that last post, _Everybody thinks I'm a liar, the local police thinks I am a joke and a trouble stirring outsider. Nobody NOBODY believes me and I feel like I'm going crazy._ And he nodded, seeming to make up his mind. When he looked outside the window, Genos was startled by the weight of his gaze.

Saitama declared, "We'll find the person responsible for all of these Genos. I am going to head out."

Genos shot to his feet, slamming the laptop shut, "I'll come with with you Sensei!"

oo00oo

The police patrol outside look every bit of the term 'under-qualified for the job'. Ill dressed for the colder than normal weather, they had huddled up in the police vehicle, only grudging slipping out when Saitama beckoned them. They were an odd couple, an antithesis of each other in looks and personality. The younger one of the pair was a dark skinned man called Morimoto, cheerful and talkative to the boot. He reminded Genos of an over-excited puppy with his dancing eyes and constantly twitching limbs. It was easy to deal with him as he was more than happy to provide information to Genos and Saitama while munching on the banana Saitama had provided.

The other cop, on the other hand, was much less welcoming. He was a large man with an impressive moustache that was discolored due to smoking. Instead of approaching them like his partner had, he loomed like a tall and bulky shadow just by the tilted hood of the car, looking down at them with an impassive expression etched into his broad features. More importantly, Genos observed how his body language became more and more aggressive as they bantered on, even though he had refused to introduce himself or engage them himself. Besides, he had declined Saitama sensei banana (that heretic), and Genos was feeling disinclined to give him further benefit of the doubt.

"We were a bit surprised too, but the order came from upstairs," Officer Morimoto was saying, "Can't do nothing about that," He laughed, looking sheepish, "Though I am very happy to see more friendly faces here, and so far up in the Hero Association too!"

The other cop gave a derisive snort.

Genos nodded his thanks, a strained but polite smile tugging his lips. The glare of the morning sun was too strong as it burned his gaze behind the cop's silhouette, exasperating his headache. He decided to get to the point, "So, is there anything you can tell us about the culprit?"

"We are helping out with the investigation too," Saitama added.

Morimoto bristled, "I don't think it is possible for me to discuss that."

Suddenly, the nature of their conversation struck Genos in a familiar way, and he hesitated briefly. He was reminded of the times before he met Saitama-sensei where information was not readily available. They were the times where he did not have access to the HA's vast archives, when the necessary information could not always be obtained by intimidation or brute force. Sometimes, subtler forms of inquiry were needed. And Genos had found out that, despite the distrust his robotic parts created, he had a certain flair in persuading people when he paid attention to the convo. A facade of candidness was often the best way.

So, Genos kept his face straight and his voice soft as he explained, "There are no tenants in that apartment besides us. We are being targeted on purpose. I don't think we should be left in the dark." Of course the notion of him or Saitama-sensei being in danger from a regular criminal was laughable but the cops didn't have to know that.

"Well, I- the thing is we don't discuss confidential information with civilians," Morimoto replied.

"We are hardly civilians. Secrecy is not foreign to us. We are professional heroes working in-"

The other cop spoke for the first time, as Genos had imagined his voice was rough from ill use and a lifelong use of cigarettes, "There is no monster involvement in this case, we don't have to tell you anything."

"The adornment of the victim suggests that the murderer is an individual who is on the verge of transformation or madness," Genos shot back, but refrained from mentioning the Discount King character.

"You can't know that," the cop hissed, "All of that normal people turning into monsters talk is bull in my opinion."

Saitama steered the conversation back in, "Honestly, you don't have to explain everything to us, we just want to know if there are any names or any sort of descriptions."

Genos added, "I understand why the police would want to keep this confidential but we are being put to danger by the police's extreme discretion. A sort of clue on what we should be avoiding will be much appreciated."

Officer Morimoto looked conflicted, his eyebrows drawing together.

Genos continued, "Officer Morimoto, certainly you would not want anyone to get hurt, right?"

"Morimoto-" the other cop warned menacingly. This seemed to annoy Morimoto greatly.

"Hideko-san, I am not going to spill the beans. So don't give me that tone," he snapped, "Nor am I going to let them run around like headless chickens, it is not right.

"I will report you partner," Hideko said, a blush of anger rising up on the patch of skin underneath his beard.

"You like me too much for that partner," Morimoto countered, some of his natural good humor brightening his tone. He turned to them with an open but weary expression, and explained, "Let us just say from an eyewitness report we are sure that we are looking for a dark haired middle-aged male with thick mustache that is-"

Nobody noticed Officer Hideko flinch slightly.

"-almost as impressive as Hideko's we learned!" Morimoto laughed slightly, "Be careful, alright?" The cop grinned, flashing his pearly white teeth at them, "And perhaps we might actually cooperate more in the future!"

"That's nice," Hideko interrupted, "Maybe we'll hand over our responsibilities to them too. Maybe, we should just disband and pay our retirements and let these happy bunch of _heroes_ take care of law enforcement."

Morimoto looked miffed, "That is a big jump from what I said, don't you think?"

"It is the next step," the cop snapped, "Use your head a little. Stop giving these mercenaries so much credit." He stormed back into the car and slammed the door shut. Genos saw him bury his forehead into the steering wheel.

oo00oo

After an afternoon of fruitless search and dead ends, Genos and Saitama were back home again. That night Genos chose not to activate his tracking sensors due to the pounding in his head. If that girl, who was no longer a priority, was any danger to Saitama sensei, he would just find it out the traditional way. He needed to rest his head. Perhaps tomorrow, Genos would find something new.


End file.
